


Porns

by RickishMorty



Series: Commissions [4]
Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Comfort/Angst, Light Angst, M/M, Porn, Porn Video, Porn Watching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:48:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25019548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RickishMorty/pseuds/RickishMorty
Summary: I saw your account on PornHub.That phrase had been ringing in his head for days, ever since they had been on that planet. Rick had said it with indifference, of course, not giving weight to any of his words, especially when referring to something that concerned others. He did not know that that confession had triggered unstoppable thoughts in Morty, one on top of the other.
Relationships: Rick Sanchez/Morty Smith
Series: Commissions [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1780525
Comments: 14
Kudos: 115





	Porns

**Author's Note:**

  * For [420depression69](https://archiveofourown.org/users/420depression69/gifts).



> A commission for PickleAki ( https://twitter.com/PickleAki )  
> Thanks babe!!

_I saw your account on PornHub._

That phrase had been ringing in his head for days, ever since they had been on that planet. Rick had said it with indifference, of course, not giving weight to any of his words, especially when referring to something that concerned others. He did not know that that confession had triggered unstoppable thoughts in Morty, one on top of the other.

Especially after what had happened with those species of Facehugger who had taken control of both and from which they had managed to free themselves by chance. Neither he nor Rick had opened the topic about what had happened while they were controlled, but Morty knew that Rick remembered: if he had memory of what happened while they were not conscious, why shouldn't the scientist have had it? But if Rick didn't talk about it, he certainly wouldn't have done it: it was enough for him to think about it every day. Because Rick's wasn't the only phrase that rang in his head.

_"I wanna suck you so much."_

Morty swallowed, his legs getting weak and his lower belly beginning to make strange movements as he sat in front of the computer. He stared at the screen, without deciding to open the PornHub account: he had an urgent need to masturbate, more and more frequent in the last few days.

Rick's voice saying those things, so low, hoarse and hot, vibrated in his head, unable to leave: he obviously knew that it was not the scientist who had thought or said those things and had not even been able to look him in the face. Hearing his voice, however, his tone with those erotic and fascinating shades that had never talked to him like that before, had made him crazy. He remembered the grasp of his large, long-fingered hands, which had taken his, tiny by comparison. He had cursed and blessed those fucking aliens at the same time for creating that moment, but for kissing in their place, standing between his mouth and that of Rick.

Rick.

_Your grandfather._

Morty took his head in his hands, pulling his legs up on the chair, in a desperate attempt to stop that nascent erection that was pressing against the boxers. He was disgusted by himself and was ashamed to die, but he could not do anything against that desire: Rick was horny. And it had been happening for quite some time, actually. He had had billions of opportunities to try to go beyond that desire, transforming it into something more: the orgy with dragons, Rick who had asked him for that kiss, a thousand times alone in the spaceship. But the fact that Rick hadn't talked about what had happened with those facehuggers said a lot: it was an experience he preferred to forget, surely. And disgusting and hushing Rick wasn't easy.

Morty sighed, finally opening PornHub, trying to forget about his erection. He was re-checking all the followers of his profile for the umpteenth time, looking for Rick among them: nothing, nobody seemed to be him, even if it was impossible to say. His homepage was crowded with redheads, threesomes, even some pissing, and Morty felt oddly safe.

Yes, because that wasn't the PornHub account he used most often. Panicked by the fear that some classmate might find out (he connected with Facebook), Morty had created another account, the one where he collected his most secret and perverse fantasies: dozens of SilverFox porn. Gray-and-white-haired men who fucked in every way and position much younger boys than they were. Obviously it was very difficult, if not impossible, to find boys of his precise age, but men of Rick's age were easily found. They went from bodybuilders, to the old man with a reassuring and tender belly, to the old rickety and skeletal ones: the latter were his favorites, although he was never fully satisfied.

Nobody looked like Rick. Not on PornHub, but in the universe: nobody looked like his grandfather in the most absolute way. The attitude, the voice, the eyes.

Nobody had his eyes.

But surely Morty had gotten used to that problem, managing to content himself with those videos anyway to satisfy his unconfessable fantasies. Another reason why he wanted to continue going to the school psychologist.

_I saw your account on PornHub._

That phrase rang in his head for two reasons: Rick had been interested in his sexual tastes. Why? What could matter to him? The second reason was: which of the two fucking accounts had Rick seen? At that moment, Morty had been sweating cold, feeling the tachycardia mounting fast. What if he had seen the other one? What had he thought? Had he wanted to tell him to make him understand _"I know what perversions you have, ugly maniac that you a_ _re_ _"?_

Her erection slowly disappeared, while Morty clashed with the horrible option that Rick had discovered everything, provided he hadn't already known. How could something be hidden from the most intelligent man in the universe, wanted by all alien and terrestrial Intelligences?

Morty hugged his legs against his chest, hiding his face against his knees, wetting them with tears that were born at the time, while tachycardia ate him alive.

Rick was an asshole. A bastard. An egoist.

But it was all he had. The idea of having been able to disgust him was ...

BLIM!

The sound of a notification interrupted Morty's thoughts, who slowly raised his head and tearful eyes. He wanted to turn off the computer, without thinking about anything: the excitement was now a distant memory and the last thing he wanted was to masturbate.

He put a hand on the mouse to turn off the PC, before opening his eyes, causing his gaze to fall on the PornHub notification.

The Rickest Rick added you.

Morty felt his heart in his throat and the beats directly in his ears. He looked down at the homepage, watching the videos: red-haired girls everywhere. He rolled his eyes back, sighing with suddenly comforted relief: it was not the real one. Thank goodness then Rick had seen the "fictitious" one, not the one full of over-seventies committed to fucking much younger boys.

Morty relaxed on the chair, lowering his legs back to the ground and clicking on Rick's profile: empty. There was no video, nor seen, nor favorited yet. He must have created it in that instant. Probably to poke him and put him in trouble.

While Morty was thinking about adding him or not, the chat opened, with another high-pitched sound. Obviously, it was Rick.

There was a link in the chat, from a site outside of PornHub that Morty had never heard of.

\- Learn, lil shit

Morty clicked on the link, which opened only because Rick had configured his computer to be able to navigate also on the alien portals: the web page revealed a porn in which a very pushed threesome was taking place. The "very pushed" resided in the violent sex that three different alien races were making, one of which looked like a giant echidna: like the animal, in fact, he too had a glans that branched out into four parts, developed in four different penises. Morty immediately closed the page, returning to the chat, his mouth folded in a disgusted grimace.

\- That sucks, Rick.

Maybe he was worrying too much; Rick hadn't seen his real account and was poking around as usual, teasing him without thinking too much about it. Maybe he was the only one who was overly concerned.

\- Sophisticated tastes for someone who has a horal pissing in the top ten

\- Stalker

Morty bit his lip before looking for the GILF category. He copied the link, pasting in the chat with Rick a porn video of an elderly lady engaged in a blowjob without dentures.

\- At best you can get excited with these

Morty chuckled, trying to find others, more driven than the previous one, before Rick counterattacked with another link. The moment Morty saw him, he lost a beat.

\- Meh, I could do better

Rick had sent him a SilverFox porn that Morty knew very well: it was one of his favorites. The reason was very simple; the sixty-year-old protagonist had a dry, slender physique, very similar to that of Rick. He was fucking a woman, slightly younger than him, but still with beautiful shapes. Morty blushed and at the same time became anxious again: he had seen it billions of times, knew it by heart, every moan, every gasp. Didn't Rick really discover his real account? It seemed too strange as a coincidence.

But it was also true that he had started with the Gilf one...

Morty moved on to his second account, seeing in front of him the many porns where he had fantasized a thousand times, imagining Rick's hands on himself several times, his erection that slipped between his buttocks, hard and demanding. Morty felt his lower belly moving again, with the boxer cloth tighter than before. In a fit of madness (or courage? Or unconsciousness?), Morty copied the link of his favorite porn, sending it to Rick in chat.

Immediately, the boy turned with the swivel chair, turning his back on the PC and covering his face with his hands. He had done it. He had thrown the bomb and there was no way back. What the fuck had occurred to him?

Morty had sended Rick to his greatest fantasy: if it had two thousand views, at least two hundred were all his. In this porn, the SilverFox present, always had something that reminded Rick, in body and hair. But he was the other person present, the real gem: he was a man, not a woman, and much, much younger than the elderly: he must have been just under thirty, in a very large age difference. He was thin, brown-haired and short, but above all he had a high-pitched, shrill voice, tremendously similar to his.

Morty squeezed his legs, moaning in frustration at the swollen erection, and at the same time with the shame and deep remorse of what he had just done. It could have been a point of no return; how could he have done such a thing, so light-heartedly?

It was a life that dreamed of doing it, of telling him ... but he did not imagine exposing himself like this. Well, he could cover up, couldn't he? Could he be a fake dummy, what was wrong? He was just exchanging porn. Yes, gay porn and whose protagonists resembled them, with his grandfather, but what was wrong? It was a goliardic thing, wasn't it? If Rick thought badly, it was his fault; it was he who was mischievous.

_Sure. Not you to be a fucking pervert._

The fact that no notification arrived, however, was not a good sign. Rick could play it down with a laugh, or a poke, some mocking phrase. Instead nothing; no reply. Silent Rick was frightening.

Morty turned around again, rotating with his chair, losing a beat when he saw that Rick had viewed the last message. He had read it and was not responding. Morty swallowed, resting his fingers on the keyboard to try and sketch an answer or an excuse that simulated sending a wrong link. He wouldn't have convinced him, but at least he would have left him in doubt.

As he wrote, uncertain and hesitant, the sound of a notification interrupted him, leading him to immediately look up.

\- The boy is cute.

...

...

...

Morty was stunned for an incalculable, still time, staring at his grandfather's answer and the barline of the text box that kept appearing and disappearing, marking the time Morty stared at the screen.

_The boy is cute._

Rick was referring to the young, brown, with the incredibly shrill voice that looked a lot like him, if not for age?

His erection was exploding and the boy started stroking it, unbuttoning his pants.

Morty swallowed, not knowing what else to answer. What did he mean?

Was it a simple comment or was Rick aiming to tell him something else? He knew that his grandfather was pansexual since they met Unity, so he shouldn't have been surprised by that comment, but it still made sense to him. Superficially, he could think that Rick was more prone to more mature ages. It didn't make sense to have thought of it, though: he had fucked a planet, literally, why shouldn't a boy in his early thirties be attractive?

It was also amazing how much Morty was both excited and jealous of that phrase: if the idea that Rick found someone similar to him cute exalted him, the comparison between him and the boy in the porn immediately took off. He was older, with a more toned physique, a bigger penis ... The fact that he found him cute, did not mean that he found him cute. At all.

Morty moaned, his erection beginning to hurt and begging for satisfaction. And, for once, not by his hands. But he could not touch himself: if Rick had arrived at that moment, he would have no doubts about what was exciting him. They were talking together, sharing the same porn: there would be no ambiguity. But what if it wasn't already there? If Rick was really throwing him a bait, or help to take the first step?

Could he have reciprocated? Or wasn't he so deviant to have sex with his grandson? Maybe he would never be so close to finding out what he was like again ... What was better, remorse or regret?

Morty swallowed, his face turning purple, while linking the continuation of that porn, with the same identical protagonists, who if in the first one were fucking normally, here instead they were in a very obvious, but always fashioning doggy style position.

Morty typed faster than his thoughts, almost with his eyes closed, wanting to try everything.

\- I envy him a little ...

The message was immediately seen, without giving Morty time to reflect on what he had done. It was too late. The boy began to look at the time at the bottom right of the screen, counting the minutes that Rick took to answer.

The first was a foregone conclusion, it wasn't even calculated. From the second onwards, Morty began to calculate the minutes of duration of the porn: maybe Rick was watching it all? Did he want to answer him after seeing it? (Fuck, that situation was paradoxical).

After those minutes, Morty began to worry: more than ten had passed, and still no response from Rick. The boy went on the defensive, quickly typing an answer.

\- I was joking, huh ...

...

Nothing.

Rick wasn't even seeing anymore.

\- Hey?

...

Nothing.

Morty bit his lip, his erection fading, as fast as it had come: the game was over. He looked at the door, deciding to go out and go downstairs: he would have behaved normally, he would have dinner and watch the interdimensional TV. Nothing more, nothing less. If Rick had acted strangely or would have been cold and unfriendly, the problem was his. Morty just had to cover up, and everything would fall into place.

In the kitchen, Beth was preparing dinner, while in the living room Jerry was watching TV and Summer was chatting on the phone. Morty act as a good boy, going to the kitchen to help Beth and probe the situation at the same time: not even a sound was heard from the garage. The moment he took the dishes to set, Beth stopped him, noticing him.

"Oh, no, one less, Morty."

"Why? Does Summer eat at her friends? "

"No. Rick is out. "

Morty frowned, not understanding at first.

"… Out? Where? When?"

“I have no idea, Morty. If you do not know...".

Morty immediately went on the defensive, as if his secret was on everyone's lips and everyone was suddenly aware of it.

"M-me? W-why should I know? "

"... You are always together around the universe, I thought you knew where he had gone, no?" there seemed to be hidden envy in Beth's tone, but that wasn't what Morty was focusing on.

Rick had run away. No, Rick didn't run away. But he was gone, and right after that message. He had pulled the rope, going too far: he could not even hide behind the ambiguity of talking on the internet. He had gone too far, he had exposed himself too much. And Rick was gone, disgusted and perhaps overwhelmed by that reality.

The moment the tears began to sting his eyes, Morty left the kitchen, mumbling something about the fact that he wasn't hungry either. He ignored Beth's (few) calls, going down to the garage to make sure Rick was really gone.

The spaceship was still there, but there was no trace of the scientist: everything was off, not even particularly messy or anything. It was all very commonplace, as always.

Morty went down the stairs to the garage, looking disconsolately at the empty room, his tachycardia becoming unbearable and making it almost impossible to breathe. He had messed up and ruined everything, and had managed to scandalize and disgust even the most absurd and moral-free man in the universe.

He had fucked up.

What if Rick had told the family?

Morty leaned on his grandfather's work table, taking his head in his hands and bursting into tears, to be able to give vent to that anxiety and frustration that had been driving him crazy for months and that had exploded in the worst way.

As he tried to calm his breath so as not to suffocate, Morty saw beside him the only strange thing in the room: Rick had forgotten his flask on the table. Morty took it in his hands, swinging it: it was half full.

That was how Rick solved problems, wasn't it? Alcohol, drugs ... sex. If that was his only way out, it might be worth trying. Morty uncorked the flask, smelling it: he wrinkled his nose with the strong smell of alcohol, but also recognizing the smell of Rick's breath. Unbearable, but also attractive and unmistakable.

Morty stretched out his tongue, shyly licking the spout of the flask, feeling Rick's taste for the first time. He closed his eyes, trying to imagine the man who reciprocated him, kissing him, before attaching himself without realizing it to the flask, getting caught by the moment. He swallowed a large sip of alcohol, starting to cough noisily, with tears in his eyes and red cheeks.

It really sucked, and it was super strong. He had taken a sip of beer once, but he had never drunk such a thing. Morty pursed his lips, covering his nose and taking another big sip, swallowing without thinking.

Did Rick solve things like this? Well, he would have done it then. Because at that moment he had absolutely no idea how else to do.

His first hangover had been violent, unexpected, lonely and for reasons he could never have foreseen. After finishing all the flask and partially turning the garage upside down, Morty had gone back to his room, closing himself inside. He had reviewed all the porn he had passed to Rick several times, including that of the old woman, jerking himself several times to identify himself with what might have been his grandfather's thoughts. What had excited him? What had disgusted him? What did he recognize himself in and what did he never do (assuming there was something Rick never did)?

He had masturbated furiously, in the fumes of alcohol, closing his eyes in imagining Rick fucking him there, on his bed. But it was different from porn ... Rick had a hoarse and penetrating voice, as well as his gaze, impossible to read and interpret, but in which only expectation and pretensions could be seen. Those big hands, which tightened around his bottom, completely covering him, sinking his fingertips in his flesh never touched by anyone else. And Rick's erection ... He had dreamed it a thousand times, catching a glimpse of it a few rare times, like when he had destroyed all his clones. But he had no idea what it really was like. How he was when he was excited, horny, completely hard and tense. He only knew that even at rest, Rick looked huge. He had nothing to envy to the protagonists of those porn.

The worst part was that Morty, before collapsing asleep, had written a lot of messages to Rick, in an explosion of guilt, confessions, anger, fear and prayers. The latter were the problem.

\- Rick, I was joking, why do u leave? What a dramaqueen

\- Look I'm sorry it was a shit ok?

\- Don't tell mom

\- Fuck stop Rick answer me

\- Rick please come back please please please

\- It's not my fault I didn't choose to please them

While Morty slowly opened his eyes in the middle of the night, reading in confusion the chats he did not remember sending, he immediately looked at the last message sent. The one who sentenced him to certain death.

\- I wish you could do those things to me

As the tachycardia returned galloping, waking him from the numbness of the alcohol, Morty immediately reached over his mouse to clear the messages before Rick saw them.

The moment he was about to eliminate them, the scariest word he could read appeared: seen.

Morty was speechless, paralyzed; he suddenly feel the need to vomit and not because he was in hangover. Now Rick would come into his room with the portalgun, yelling at him that it sucked, that he was a little shit with a shitty brain and that he had nothing to do with those disgusting and sick perversions. That they spent too much time together and that it was better to stay away, perhaps forever.

Or worse, maybe he would have disappeared without saying anything, without even warning, abandoning his mother again out of the blue. Leaving him.

What if he operated on his brain? By moving a few synapses, sewing here and there in order to prevent such creepy ideas still coming to him?

As Morty was about to have a very strong and unstoppable panic attack, Rick started typing something on the chat. Those suspensory dots that jumped, announcing a reply message, seemed to make fun of Morty, making him wait in an eternal, mortal wait, which could only end badly.

When Rick finally sent the answer, Morty frowned and wiped the tears from his eyes, to make sure he hadn't read wrong.

\- Come to the garage. Now.

Going down to the garage was the hardest thing he had ever done. More than invading an alien race or raising a child in a matter of hours. Rick's judgmental and contemptuous gaze awaited him, along with who knows what words of ridicule or reproach. He wasn't ready to face his reaction, but he knew he had to do it sooner or later: he couldn't run away from Rick. And they also lived in the same house.

Feeling dirty and perverse, Morty went down the stairs, heart in his throat and a very strong urge to vomit. He probed the room anxiously, without seeing Rick anywhere. Was he gone again?

Arriving in the center of the room, Morty swallowed, clutching the edge of his shirt with sweaty and sticky hands.

"R-Rick ...?"

No reply. Was that a psychological game too? Did he want to make him suffer, making him pay for that perversion that was too much even for those who had fucked an entire alien population?

"R-Rick ... P-please ..."

Suddenly, Morty felt a presence behind him and Rick's breath in his hair. He wasn't touching him, but even without doing it, Morty felt naked, totally at his mercy.

That silence was killing him.

"I-I'm sorry ..."

"Of what? Of having horrible tastes in porn?" he said, sternly.

Morty hugged his arms and the need to vomit became more urgent. His chin trembled as his eyes filled with tears again.

Then it was true.

He disgusted him.

"I-I'm sorry-"

Rick lowered to his face, whispering in his ear in a completely different tone of voice, in a low, hoarse and inviting voice, which made Morty shiver.

"I told you Morty that I could do much better..."

**Author's Note:**

> Do you want to commission me?
> 
> https://twitter.com/RickishMorty/status/1276819747993260033


End file.
